


In Which Everyone Goes to the Winchesters' Coffee Shop

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: AU-gust 2020 [31]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: Dean glanced at the clock. Cas’s class would be getting out pretty soon. He frowned. That meant that--The door burst open, a tall, gangly young man skidding through the doorway, clutching his bag.--Merlin was late again.“Sorry! So sorry!” he gasped. “But there was a--”Dean waved him off with one hand. “Just get your apron on,” he scolded, knowing Merlin would be able to see through his exasperation.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: AU-gust 2020 [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870924
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	In Which Everyone Goes to the Winchesters' Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 31, 2020 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/628030843368144897/au-gust-31-coffee-shop-au-modern-au)

The staff at _Bean There, Done That_ had seen everything. As the closest independently owned coffee shop to campus, it was a crossroads of the college and at any given moment their clientele was a pretty decent cross-section of the student body.

Dean braced the pan of fresh scones against the back of the pastry case and surveyed the room in satisfaction. When he and his brother Sammy had opened the shop fifteen years earlier, they never could have imagined the ups and downs their lives would take to get to this point. His relationship with Cas alone! Jeesh. He shook his head. It had been a long, hard road, but his little family had made it to the other side, a bit battered, but solid.

He glanced at the clock. Cas’s class would be getting out pretty soon. Dean knew his husband would stick around until the last student had left, so he was probably a good half hour out still.

Dean frowned. If Cas’s class was almost done, that meant that--

The door burst open, a tall, gangly young man skidding through the doorway, clutching his bag.

\--Merlin was late again.

“Sorry! So sorry!” he gasped. “But there was a--”

Dean waved him off with one hand. “Just get your apron on,” he scolded, knowing Merlin would be able to see through his exasperation.

“Yes! Sorry,” he apologized again. Merlin quickly stowed his satchel behind the counter and donned his apron. “I’ll wipe down tables,” he offered, grabbing a cloth and hurrying back out onto the floor.

It was a good thing Merlin had turned up, Dean thought in amusement, starting to refill the case, because otherwise the rugby player in the corner would have had a fit. Arthur turned up like clockwork every day Merlin worked and proceeded to make rude comments to Merlin’s face and watch him like a hawk when he wasn’t looking.

Dean would have put a stop to it, but when he’d asked Merlin about him, the student had looked surprised. “It’s just Arthur,” he’d dismissed. “He’s always like that.” Arthur’s sister Morgana and Merlin’s best friend Gwen were there a lot too, prodding at Arthur in irritation and giving him encouraging pep talks in turn, so he figured Merlin was probably safe enough.

Raised voices from the corner of the shop caught Dean’s attention for a moment, and he quickly looked over to make sure there weren’t going to be any fistfights breaking out. It was the Protester’s Corner, as he’d mentally dubbed it. There were two groups of students that occupied the circle of armchairs, always on alternating days. (Dean wasn’t sure he was mentally or physically prepared for the fall out if they ever showed up on the same day.)

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, it must have been a group of International Studies students, because they were always talking in French when he stopped by to bus the tables. The couple words he understood were things like “liberty” and “equality”, so Dean figured they were probably talking about politics. Or maybe philosophy. Or history? Once again, he made a mental note to see if Cas knew who they were or what they were talking about.

The other group of students, the ones who descended on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, were most definitely Political Science students. Their conversations ranged from electoral politics to debates over the actual structure of government. Most of it went right over Dean’s head. He did make sure to keep an eye on the ringleader though. If he overdosed on caffeine, Dean was definitely going to get investigated.

A ruckus in the middle of the room pulled Dean away from the wanna-be revolutionaries. Merlin had apparently tripped over another chair leg, barely managing to stop himself from completely face-planting on the wood floor. Dean bit back a sigh. Merlin was one of their most personable employees, but he swore the young man had two left feet.

The student whose chair Merlin had tripped over helped him up and waved off his apologies. Dean had only seen him in the shop once or twice before, but Cas had him in one of his classes. The student’s name was Peter, and he was a Criminal Justice major from the UK. Dean wasn’t sure what classes he was taking, but he kept hauling around books that Dean would swear were in Latin, but that Peter stared at like they were Greek. How that was related to Criminal Justice or Cas’s Comparative Abrahamic Religions class, Dean had no idea.

The door opened again, and Dean glanced over, but it wasn’t a customer. Phil was apparently back from his break, which he’d spent making out with his archer boyfriend, if the flush on his face and adoring looks he threw behind himself were any indication.

Dean rolled his eyes at the goofy expression on Phil’s face and slid the last scone from his tray into the case. “You ready for the rush, Coulson?”

Phil nodded firmly as he rounded the counter and put on his apron, the red already fading from his cheeks as he focused on the task at hand. “Bring it.”

Merlin managed to successfully make it back to the counter with a handful of plates, forks, and mugs, none of which were broken. Dean was seriously starting to believe he was using magic. There is no way someone that clumsy could have gotten this far without breaking something through sheer mundane means.

Dean eased past his employees to put the empty scone tray back in the kitchen. The door opened again, and he peeked back into the shop.

The Radio-TV-Film classes were held in the nearest building, so the onslaught of RTF majors heralded the start of the next rush. Today it was the heavily tattooed radio host and their Physics major boyfriend first through the door.

Dean snagged the plates from Merlin before he could drop them and wordlessly gestured for him to take over the espresso machine.

Just as Dean vanished into the kitchen again to drop off the dirty dishes, he heard Phil’s bright voice behind the cash register. “Good afternoon, Cecil! Welcome back. What can we get for you today?”


End file.
